The Sausage Chronicles
by TheKookaburraStoleMySausage
Summary: A heartfelt legend of one sausage thousands of lives and one fate. PLZ RR RR RR RR FIRST FIC.Tell your friends. You'll never look at sausages the same way again....!
1. Chapter 1

_"You are my sausage, my only sausage. You make me happy when skies are grey…"_

Harry Potter sat at the top of North Tower, cradling a sausage in his arms and cooing softly. He had successfully isolated himself from his non-existent friends in order to enjoy his lone-time in the company of the sausage.

He rocked it gently in his arms, stroking it in a very peculiar way with the tip of his finger. Suddenly, his euphoria was abruptly broken. A flap of wings was the cause.

Then, even more suddenly, he felt a loss in his hands that was like no loss he had ever experienced before – his parents' death didn't even come close. His sausage was ….GONE!

He looked up in horror, expecting anything but what he saw…

It was…

A kookaburra.

It was sitting in the tree, mocking him. Then he saw the senseless violence in its eyes.And it hit him – that was no ordinary sausage. It was a Sausage Slash Horcrux!

He reached for the nearest weapon he could find – a rock placed conveniently near his foot. He knew he had to make this shot, but he'd never thrown a rock before, or anything for that matter. He was one of many severely overweight cases in the wizarding world.

The rock emitted a long, slow-motion NNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOO as it was released from the palm of his hand and hurtled towards the kookaburra, having to perform a 180 degree turn to get there.

It hit the kookaburra square in the face. It dropped the sausage, and Harry lunged forward heroically and slightly stupidly, before realizing he was still at the top of North Tower.

He plummeted at break-neck speed, breaking his neck along with every other bone in his body.

Then the most suddenly yet, he hit the ground with a terrible thud. Harry groaned. Miraculously, the sausage had survived. It was in his hand.

There was a flapping of wings. Then, Harry experienced a sense of loss that he had never experienced before. Even the feeling of his own life ebbing away couldn't match this. His sausage was gone. And this time forever. His eyes glazed over and …

He died.

He then woke up again, took a deep breath, got up…

And died.

THE END

_Inspired by a true story_


	2. Dumbledore's fate

Dumbledore awoke from his light slumber. The light was streaming in through the gap in his curtains. He yawned, got up, took a swig of Fire-Whisky and glanced over at his new Kookaburra. It was sitting on Fawkes's usual perch; He had traded Fawkes the night before.

After four pints of Fire-Whisky, Dumbledore decided to go for a drunken stroll through the grounds. Outside the air was crisp and fresh. He was just becoming remotely sober when he tripped and fell. Annoyed he got up to see what had caused him to fall over. His heart stopped. The black Mohawk, skull earrings and Goth bands. The scrawny frame and cowardly stature. Harry Potter lay dead before him.

Out of the corner of his eye Dumbledore noticed something out of place a sausage. The curves, the sweet juicy fragrance. The sausages evil enchantment fell again, this time the greatest wizard alive fell under the spell. Dumbledore picked it up and held it gently too his chest.

And began too sing.

If anyone stuck their nose out the window of Gryffindor tower that day they would see a sight that would haunt them forever. Dumbledore, sitting on the ledge of his office, cradling a sausage in his arms, and caressing it, with one wrinkly tip of his finger. And singing softly.

"Hey look at Dumbledore" said Ron casually

"Must've had too much to drink again" grunted Fred.

"He's lost it"

"No" Fred said. "He's completely sane"

Dumbledore was humming to the sausage when a flap of wings broke him from his stupor. He turned his head sharply. His pet Kookaburra swooped, snatching the sausage from his hand. He felt a loss like he had never felt before. The loss of Harry didn't come close.

Dumbledore lost it. He began screaming hysterically. Tearing his nails at his face.

"Still think he's sane" asked Ron.

"Probably just a hard day at work" grinned Fred.

The Kookaburra stared at him maliciously. The Professor could see the senseless violence in its eyes. No one could take _his _sausage and live. He lunged forward snatching the sausage from the kookaburra and knocking it right off its perch.

Dumbledore plummeted to the ground at break neck speed, breaking his toe. Suddenly, and without warning he hit the ground. Miraculously the sausage had survived; it lay there perfectly cooked, perfectly shaped and perfectly scented. Dumbledore felt his eyes glaze over, he heard a flutter of wings, then he felt a loss like nothing he had ever felt before. Even the feeling of his own life ebbing away couldn't match this. The sausage had gone. And this time forever. His heart stopped. He heard the kookaburra laughing as everything went black.

He died.

Opened his eyes got up took a deep breath.

And Died.

_Inspired by a true story_


	3. Voldemorts decision

Firstly we'd like to dedicate this chapter too sparkling-tangerine, and yes it has a slightly more serious plot.

Voldemort sat curled in his favourite armchair by the fire. Being in a retirement home did have its advantages. Voldemort was now over one-hundred-years old. With barely a wrinkle showing.

He was waiting for an important message, but not from an owl. (Hint hint).

Maybe he should get up and get some coffee, No he thought, too much effort. Anyway the message should be here soon.

Suddenly there was a tapping at the window, he looked up in alarm and there it was a KOOKABURRA! He hobbled hastily to the window. (It took him several hours to get there so it was dawn by the time he made it).

"Ah, I trust the plan went accordingly" He whispered. (Now we all know that kookaburras can't talk so let's just pretend)

"Yes my lord, perfectly" (That wasn't so hard was it?)

"Good, good. Dumbledore dead, along with Harry Potter. Now there is one person left to kill Rufus Scrimgeour" Voldemort sighed grimly.

Voldemort had sent the kookaburra off to assassinate the minister. Being the worlds most evil person ten times running had its difficulties. He felt weary all this hard work really took its toll on him. He closed his eyes and fell askeep…

He died.

Opened his eyes, got up took a deep breath.

And… got himself a cup of tea.

**SEE, no sausages in that one, and no people dying… well sort of. PLS REVIEW or no more chapters…!I need at least 10…**


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